A Hand of Spades

Chapter 13. Hazing

When the drinks hit, they hit hard. The party slowly shifted inside the roadhouse in time for me to need the bathroom, and now I'm faced with my own haphazard reflection. My hair is a wild mess, mascara smudged beneath my eyes from the heat of the warm June night. I look unhinged. I giggle at myself; at the wild girl in the mirror.

I hadn't put much thought into my outfit, but I'm now pleased with the overall ensemble. The band t-shirt is too large and has slid off my shoulder, revealing the strap of the bright red bralette I'm wearing beneath it. It's probably the tequila, but between the outfit and the flush in my cheeks, I feel like I almost look sexy.

Vick stumbles out of the stall behind me, eyes unfocused and smiling. "Uh oh."

After X-Ray brought me whiskey, Vick had the brilliant idea to bust out the tequila. I was promptly bullied into over-indulging. We'd had at least five rounds of shots back-to-back.

"Are you okay?" I ask her in the mirror. I'm braced against the bathroom sink, not certain I'm any less wobbly than she is.

"I've got the spins." She groans, but she's laughing. "Should I throw up?"

"Do you feel"- I begin, but she's already turning to go back in the saloon-style bathroom stall.

"Gonna barf!" She announces, and then promptly does so. I follow her in to sweep her red hair back.

When she's spent, she flushes and then flips the toilet lid down to sit on it. "Thank you. Where'd Doc go?"

"I think she was going to try and get some music on in here."

"Did she specifically mention The Rolling Stones?" Vick asks.

I nod, a loopy grin still plastered on my face. Doc parted ways with us just before we reached the bathroom, insisting that she wanted to hear 'Beast of Burden'. "How did you know?"

"A few shots in and she always gets thirsty for Mick Jagger. She's gonna get on the bar."

"Doc?" I shriek, surprised by the volume of my own voice. "Doc is going to get up on the bar?"

"She always lets loose at these things." 

"Should we stop her?"

"Hell no! We should join her." Vick stands determinedly, a little less unstable now, and braces her hand on my shoulder. "Come on Jane, have some fun."

Fun rarely makes it into my vocabulary, let alone my schedule. My life up until now has been work and Blister. There's been no time for fun. Even when I got the odd invite to a party at Cherry's or dinner with the girls from the Stella, I turned it down to work or get something done around the trailer. I've kept my head down, running myself ragged.

"Okay." I hear myself say. "Let's get on the damn bar."

Vick squeals with delight and hauls me out the door. The roadhouse is crammed with bikers, all of them have surveyed me with curiosity or suspicion at one point in the evening, but now they only nod at me as I'm hauled towards the bar top. 

"Everyone here is nice." I yell to Vick, who turns and gives me a lopsided kind of smile.

"Cash stuck his neck out for you. That's enough for them." 

Right, their ringleader; their 'founder'. I take a quick peek around the room and can't spot Cash. I'm both relieved and disappointed. I really don't want to make an ass of myself in front of him, but a tequila-fueled part of me wants him to watch me dance. 

As we near the bar, I see Doc clambering onto it with help from a biker I haven't been introduced to. She ushers us over and one-by-one, hauls us up with her.  Sure enough, I can hear The Stones blaring above the chatter and the clinking of bottles.